


Sorry

by Hibkei



Series: Conversations [2]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Conversations, Gen, Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 04:05:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3473777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hibkei/pseuds/Hibkei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post season 2 finale a scene between Ichabod and Abbie with words that desperately need to be spoken aloud</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sorry

**Author's Note:**

> So, this has been bugging me ever since Ichabod redrew that map in season 1 and all the way through season 2 through to the finale. It is something I felt needed to happen and since it didn't, I decided to write a short piece. To get what's happening here you have to be caught up with everything that's gone down in the 2nd season including the finale. If not, there is a spoiler in the 2nd paragraph. This is my first go at writing Sleepy Hollow fan fiction. Hope you enjoy.

It had been four weeks since she saw what Ichabod was like in the 18th Century, since she saw real glimpses of what the revolutionary war was like. No longer stories, these things were as real as the room she was standing in. Four weeks since she called him Captain, since she watched him stand and angrily wipe away tears, his mask of constraint sliding into place, his hands betraying him with every tick.

Abbie was still getting used to the fact that he had actually done it. Ichabod had killed Katrina. He had killed his wife. She had told him he didn’t have a choice. Placating words sure but necessary ones to snap him out of the descent into despair. She had expected him to latch on to them, to agree and use them to propel himself forward but he hadn’t. Instead he had responded with a “yes I did. We all did.” She had been stunned. For so long now he had been mired in denial and in order to cope with what he had done she expected him to double down but Captain Ichabod Crane had surprised her once again.

Now Abbie stood in Corbin’s cabin taking in a sleeping Ichabod. He was uncomfortably stretched out on the couch, neck twisted and hands jerking, his eyelids fluttering and face twitching like he was dreaming of something unpleasant. She wondered if she should wake him or leave him be. He had been so tired lately, they all had. Her, her sister Jenny, Frank. They were exhausted. It was as if this last fight against Henry and Katrina had been one too many and their bodies, minds and souls demanded a halt.

“No, no ... no, don’t.” Muffled, but audible enough, Abbie frowned at the words coming from Ichabod’s mouth as he slept. Decided, she leaned over him and reached out her hand to gently shake him awake. Before she could touch him, his eyes snapped open and he leapt up grabbing her and flinging her against the Cabin wall.

“Crane!” More startled than afraid, Abbie put her hands up in a gesture of surrender.

“Oh my God, Lieutenant.” He backed away quickly. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me. Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?” His hands fluttered in front of her body as if he desired to check her over for injuries. It was such an odd image she thought, him standing there, mouth twisted in distress, brows furrowed, hair wild, hands and fingers flying about - moving up and down, up and down - in front of her. Just as he was about to repeat the question she managed to softly say, 

“No Crane, you didn’t hurt me. Sorry I startled you.” He relaxed marginally and she slipped from between him and the rough wall to sit on the couch.

He stood in front of her, eyes sad, just watching. For a little while she just watched back, scrutinising, trying to see if he was okay, really okay. After a minute he sighed and sat next to her.

“To what do I owe the honour of your visit lieutenant?” He asked her, trying to push his weary muscles into a smile.

“I just wanted to check up on you. We haven’t seen each other in a few days. Wanted to see for myself how you were doing.” As if to emphasise the point, she seemed to be searching his eyes for her answer rather than waiting to hear his verbal response. A response that seemed to take a long time to come from her usually quick to words partner.

“I fear Lieutenant, that my company at this time is nothing to covet. When I am awake I wish I were not and when I am asleep the dreams that overtake me make me wish I need never sleep again.”

“Do you want to talk about it? The dreams, any of it?” She held his gaze and held out her hand. His eyes shifted downward as he placed his hand in hers and intwined their fingers. Their joined hands rested in the space between them and he kept his eyes there as he spoke,

“In truth? No I do not.” Abbie did her best not to counter that talking might help. Instead she resolved to give him space to really decide. 

“There are however, other things that I wish to say to you. Well, one thing in particular if I am to be specific,” He eventually said, breaking the silence.

“I’m all ears Crane,” She said, squeezing his hand in encouragement.

Ichabod took a small shuddering breath, placed the hand entwined with Abbie’s to his chest, looked into her eyes and said with a soft but clear voice,

“Abbie, I am sorry.”

Reflexively, Abbie made to withdraw her hand so she could process his words but Ichabod held tight, keeping her hand firmly in place. She could feel his heart and it was beating wildly.

“Why are you apologising to me Crane?”

“Because I must, because you deserve so much more than I have given you as a fellow witness, a partner, a friend.”

“Crane ...”

“Please Abbie.” 

At the pleading in his voice Abbie realised that she needed to let him speak. She needed to hear what he was going say, perhaps more so than she was even aware.

“I failed you in the most fundamental of ways. When you needed me I was not there. I turned my back on reason, on our mission, on you and I do not know how I can ever aspire to be worthy of your esteem. You called me Captain and it reminded me of who I was, a decisive man with responsibilities with a role in a war that I was sure of even if I did not fully understand it. It also reminded me that for so long I had been kept in the dark by those I trusted, my mentors, my wife but you Grace Abigail Mills, have never lied to me and it is you I have used most poorly.”

Abbie was reeling with his words. Tears pricking to the surface of her eyes as she saw his filling with tears of his own. He regarded her with a desperation as he continued,

“I sided against you, I allowed you to be ‘out-voted’ and never once did you turn your back on me, leave me to fend for myself and my foolish decisions. You were always there, even when I was not and I need to assure you that I am aware of the error of my ways. Errors that I will put to rights if it is the last thing that I do on this earth. 

“I know our bond was only sorely tested because I was the one who tested it, who threatened to break it. All those words I’ve spilled since, seeking to reassure you and myself, I endeavour to speak no more but hence to show. Lieutenant I shall not offer excuses for my behaviour and I shall not ask your forgiveness, I shall fight to earn it as I should and as you deserve.

“You are better than I, more than I and one day I will be worthy of you and all you have given me. This is my promise and one I shall keep until the day I die, again.”

He ended on a small exhale, his tall bearing seeming to diminish slightly with the effort of the words. Abbie watched him deflate, their joined hands falling once again between them. The tears that had filled his eyes had fallen down his face unchecked as had hers and the silence grew in between them like smoky tendrils, entwining them both, cocooning them in their own world. 

She had intended to tell him that all this was unnecessary, that she understood. Essentially, her instinct had been to make his excuses for him. However, instead she put her free hand to his face, feeling the roughness of his beard and the softness of his skin. His eyes closed with the contact and he sighed softly as more tears fell.

“Thank you Ichabod.” 

Spoken quietly and meaningfully Abbie knew the moment the words left her mouth that she had needed his apology. She needed to hear him give voice to the things that had come to her in the dark when she was vulnerable and wondering if she was in this alone. 

She remembered nights sitting in the archives alone because Ichabod had again decided to put Katrina’s desires before the mission, before their duty. She remembered the doubt that crowded around her as she sat surrounded by old books, dust and loneliness. Looking into his eyes now she felt validated, felt that maybe she could well forgive him for things she didn’t even allow herself to acknowledge he had done. It wasn’t just in her mind, it wasn’t just in the loaded looks Jenny sometimes sent her way after another confrontation about Henry, about their mission and their role.

She was crying in earnest now, shattered.

“Oh Abbie,” Ichabod whispered. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He used their joined hands to pull her close and wrapped both his arms around her. He rested his chin on her head as she cried into his chest. The tears flowed freely from his eyes into her hair but neither noticed. He rocked her gently, repeating his contrition into her hair, into her soul. The words reached into them both and acted as a soothing balm to their unexplainable bond.

He knew and she knew that the task ahead of them seemed insuperable but that’s what they did. They took on the impossible and somehow they always found a way. Here in Corbin’s cabin and for the first time in a long time - holding each other - they both believed that they would make it. Together. Always together.

 

 


End file.
